Scars
by Silverdam
Summary: Even years after the Promised Day, Edward Elric still has nightmares. Luckily for him, Winry is there to help him through it. A post-series Edwin drabble.


Nightmares and sleepless nights were no stranger to Edward Elric. Even after the Promised day, it was common for him to jerk awake in the middle of the night, gasping and covered in sweat as the memories of his past mistakes flashed through his mind in an endless cycle of torment.

On those all-to-familiar nights, Ed usually ended up slipping out of bed, doing his best not to disturb Winry, and spending the rest of the night in a separate room, where his tossing and turning wouldn't wake his wife. On especially bad nights, when he knew that sleep was unattainable, he would make a cup of tea and wait until morning.

Tonight, however, proved to be different. Tonight, when Ed stumbled out of bed, shaking and trying to put his thoughts into order, he wasn't alone.

"Winry?" Ed stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, surprised to see his wife sitting at the table, a cup of tea in her hands. "I didn't wake you up, did I?" He asked, beginning to feel guilty before she even answered.

"No no, it wasn't you," Winry replied. "I couldn't sleep."

Ed limped forward to the table (his leg had been acting up lately, and the storm outside wasn't helping) and sat next to Winry.

"Tea?" Winry offered, pushing her still-hot cup towards him. "I'm not very fond of this flavor."

Ed knew that was a lie; that tea was one of her favorites. He accepted the cup anyway, knowing that Winry would insist. The hot liquid warmed his throat, and the spicy flavor soothed his jittery nerves.

After sitting in silence for several seconds, Winry spoke. "What was it this time?" She asked softly.

Ed unconsciously tightened his grip on the handle of his cup. "Nothing I haven't had before," he replied with false calmness. Taking another sip of the steaming drink, Ed hoped that Winry would leave the matter alone. No such luck.

"Just because you've seen it before doesn't make it any less hard to deal with," she said. "We both know that."

Ed looked down at the table, studying the stains and chips in the worn wood. "It's nothing, Winry," he promised. "I'm fine, really."

Winry regarded him for several more seconds, her chin resting in her hand. "You know you can tell me." She reached forward and placed her hand over his. "Maybe it'll help."

Ed stared into his cooling tea, watching the liquid swirl around in the cup. "It's stupid," he finally muttered. "Just like they all are."

Winry raised her eyebrows. "Nightmares are never stupid," she said. "Now stop stalling and tell me."

A small smile came across Ed's face. Winry certainly had a way with words. "It was Baschool," he whispered, trying to ignore the twinge of phantom pain that flared in his side at the memory. "Like I said, it's stupid – I'm completely healed – perfectly fine. But sometimes…" Ed's hand, the one that Winry wasn't touching, crept to his side where the beam had impaled him. "Sometimes I'm still back there –" _'choking on my own blood, dying, pain and blood and pain and so much blood –' _Ed took a shaky breath, attempting to steady his heartbeat. "If I hadn't been able to heal myself…If I'd been too slow…" Ed shook his head, attempting to disperse the horrible 'what if' thoughts that were plaguing him.

"Of course you would have nightmares about that," Winry told him. "I'd say a near-death experience qualifies as nightmare-worthy."

Ed shook his head again. "It shouldn't be," he insisted. "I'm fine! Besides that, it was years ago! I should be over it by now, so why am I still – why am I still scared?" The last part came out as a whisper, barely heard over the sounds of rain pouring down outside. "I'm not supposed to be afraid anymore, Winry," Ed whispered.

"Why is that?" Winry asked, her voice strong and confident. "What, because you're an adult? That's stupid and you know it, Edward," she snapped. "Everyone is afraid sometimes, it's part of being human!" Winry's features softened. "Besides," she continued. "Scars never disappear, not really. They're always a part of you, no matter how many years you've had them. But it's okay for them to be there."

Ed looked up from his study of the table to look Winry in the eyes. "You're amazing, you know that?" He said fondly.

Winry smiled back at him. "That's why you married me." Offering his hand a gentle squeeze, Winry stood to her feet. "We should get some sleep."

Ed grimaced. "You go ahead," he told her. "I don't think I'll be able to tonight."

Winry frowned. "This is the third night in a row that you haven't slept," she said. "You need at least one good night's rest."

"I'll be fine," Ed assured her. "I'm sure tomorrow –"

"Forget tomorrow," Winry interrupted. "At least _try _to sleep tonight."

"I can't, Win," Ed insisted. "I'd rather stay awake than risk having another dream like that."

Winry frowned down at him, her arms folded over her chest. "What if I stayed awake?" She asked. "Would that help?"

"What?" Ed asked, dumbfounded. "Winry, you need sleep as much as me –"

"Please," Winry scoffed. "we both know that I've had much more sleep than you the past week. Now answer the question, would it help?"

Ed hesitated before answering. "Maybe," he said reluctantly. "Probably. But I'm not asking you to –"

"That's right, you're not asking," Winry said. "Because I'm deciding."

"Winry –"

"Stop arguing and get in bed."

Ed recognized the finality in Winry's tone, and knew that there was no way he would be able to win this argument. So, with a sigh of defeat, he pulled himself to his feet. Back in their bedroom, Winry seated herself on the edge of the bed.

"Sleep," she instructed.

"Yes ma'am," Ed mocked, leaning back into his pillow.

Focusing on Winry's gentle breathing, Ed allowed himself to relax. The tiredness that he had been pushing away over the last three days came flooding back, and Ed found himself wondering how he had managed to keep his eyes open at all. He felt Winry's hand begin to run through his hair, and as he began to drift off, he remembered what she had said.

_"Scars never disappear. Not really."_

_ 'Maybe that's true,' _he thought, _'but sometimes they fade, just a little bit.'_

* * *

**A/N – I know, I know, this isn't the story that some of you were hoping I'd publish…I promise that I am working on DWA, and the next chapter will be out…eventually. For now, I hope you enjoyed this little Edwin Drabble :) If you did, leaving a review/comment would mean the world to me!**


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